She comes here often to listen to the music and enjoy the atmosphere.
No one bothers her here, and that is the way she likes it. Rogue comes
here to be alone and to escape the pressures of being an X-Man, an
untouchable mutant, and a lonely woman yearning for something she will
probably never have.
The low bass tones of the jazz singer suits her mood at the moment, it gives her a peace she is unaccustomed to. Music this lovely always seems to quiet the other people who live in her head, and it quiets her as well. This is her time, when she can do anything she can think about anything she wants to.
Sometimes it is her up there, crooning along with whatever band plays that night. She doesn't believe she is all that bad at it, either. After all, the songs played in this club were made for a Southerner's voice.
Lately she had noticed a new man in the club that looked very familiar. She could quite place him, his identity hovering just on the edge of her consciousness. Rogue was so lost in her thoughts and the music she nearly jumped out of her chair when she heard the smooth Cajun voice speak directly by her right ear.
"Would p'tite like some o' Gambit's comp'ny?"
Rogue jerked away from the closeness out of habit, then glared at the man--who had previously occupied her thoughts--who dared to interrupt her. She caught a flash of red from his eyes, and suddenly she knew who he was.
"No thank ya, ''p'tite' doesn' keep comp'ny with swamp rats who work for the tin man."
"Dat's just be Remy's day job, cherie. I be off now an' I wanna get t' know the rogue gothic X-Man."
"De Rogue got bettah thangs ta do, swamp rat." With that, Rogue turned and waltzed out of the smoky dive and into the crisp night air. As she made her way down the street, she heard a motorcycle pull up and idle beside her.
"Belle femme such as y'self shouldn't be walkin' 'lone at night." Remy turned off the engine to walk with her.
"Dunno what ya're playin' at, swamp rat, but ya need to stop while ya still conscious." Rogue quickened her pace, but Remy only matched it.
"Y' offerin' to give Remy a kiss?" he teased. "Even wit' the headache I'd wake up wit' it'd be worth it."
Rogue shrugged, hugging her arms against the sudden chill she felt. "But not worth it ta have yar psyche floating 'round mah head." She stopped suddenly, only just now realizing she was at the mansion's front gate. "I'll jus' drop y' off here, p'tite. Seems y' can get home safe now." He grinned, the quick flash of white and his glowing eyes the only thing clearly visible in the darkness. He held up a card-the queen of diamonds- and pressed it to his lips before pressing it to Rouge's. Then he was just gone.
And Rogue had a lot more to think about than the mundane pressures of mutant life. She smiled foolishly up the walk as she held the card to her lips. And a pair of demon eyes watched her every move.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men.
Just a little blurb I wrote one evening and am just now getting around to posting. I may add to it or not-I'm not really sure yet. And I may revise it in the future, but for now it is just a little diamond in the rough, so to speak.
The low bass tones of the jazz singer suits her mood at the moment, it gives her a peace she is unaccustomed to. Music this lovely always seems to quiet the other people who live in her head, and it quiets her as well. This is her time, when she can do anything she can think about anything she wants to.
Sometimes it is her up there, crooning along with whatever band plays that night. She doesn't believe she is all that bad at it, either. After all, the songs played in this club were made for a Southerner's voice.
Lately she had noticed a new man in the club that looked very familiar. She could quite place him, his identity hovering just on the edge of her consciousness. Rogue was so lost in her thoughts and the music she nearly jumped out of her chair when she heard the smooth Cajun voice speak directly by her right ear.
"Would p'tite like some o' Gambit's comp'ny?"
Rogue jerked away from the closeness out of habit, then glared at the man--who had previously occupied her thoughts--who dared to interrupt her. She caught a flash of red from his eyes, and suddenly she knew who he was.
"No thank ya, ''p'tite' doesn' keep comp'ny with swamp rats who work for the tin man."
"Dat's just be Remy's day job, cherie. I be off now an' I wanna get t' know the rogue gothic X-Man."
"De Rogue got bettah thangs ta do, swamp rat." With that, Rogue turned and waltzed out of the smoky dive and into the crisp night air. As she made her way down the street, she heard a motorcycle pull up and idle beside her.
"Belle femme such as y'self shouldn't be walkin' 'lone at night." Remy turned off the engine to walk with her.
"Dunno what ya're playin' at, swamp rat, but ya need to stop while ya still conscious." Rogue quickened her pace, but Remy only matched it.
"Y' offerin' to give Remy a kiss?" he teased. "Even wit' the headache I'd wake up wit' it'd be worth it."
Rogue shrugged, hugging her arms against the sudden chill she felt. "But not worth it ta have yar psyche floating 'round mah head." She stopped suddenly, only just now realizing she was at the mansion's front gate. "I'll jus' drop y' off here, p'tite. Seems y' can get home safe now." He grinned, the quick flash of white and his glowing eyes the only thing clearly visible in the darkness. He held up a card-the queen of diamonds- and pressed it to his lips before pressing it to Rouge's. Then he was just gone.
And Rogue had a lot more to think about than the mundane pressures of mutant life. She smiled foolishly up the walk as she held the card to her lips. And a pair of demon eyes watched her every move.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men.
Just a little blurb I wrote one evening and am just now getting around to posting. I may add to it or not-I'm not really sure yet. And I may revise it in the future, but for now it is just a little diamond in the rough, so to speak.